Family
by Flatfoot88
Summary: Everyone in his family is gone, and he is the only man living in Old Town, how much worse can thing get?  Dry humor and some swearing, rating may change from Teen to Mature, will be updated if this happens
1. Chapter 1

Family

I sat down the other day and really watched Sin City. After taking the time to again appreciate the film, and more importantly Jessica Alba, I reread all the novels. Okay, I'll admit, I am a pig, but it got me wanting to write a _Sin City_ story. All I ask is that you humor me. As for the fic itself, let just say that it takes place after _The Hard Goodbye _and _The Yellow Bastard._ Also, I own nothing except my characters; I think that goes without saying, but whatever.

Enjoy, and take it Easy.

-N

* * *

><p>The rain was pouring down when he finally got to the building. He had only gotten back home that morning, and it had gone from cold and windy, to cold and windy and wet. He could deal with it though, just like he had dealt with everything else in his life. He could deal with the fact that his boss hadn't kept his job like he said he would. He could live with the fact that his girlfriend was waiting for him when he got home, with his shit backed and her boyfriend on <em>his<em> bed. But the thing that pissed him off the most was that the only place in the city renting was in Old Town.

Hell, he knew it shouldn't bother him as much as it does, but he still didn't know why he was here. He knew what Old Town was; any guy over fifteen with a working pecker knew what Old Town was. It was a place that people went to when they had an itch that needed to be scratched. Even before his deployment, he had spent a night there, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't fully satisfied by what had happened then. Still, as the rain poured down, soaking him and his gear, he wished that there was someplace else he could go. _That's bullshit though._

He couldn't go to a church for shelter. They only granted shelter to those that donated. He had only enough cash to last him a few weeks, he couldn't give it to a place that would just line its own pockets with it. Hotels were just as bad; here in Old Town, he could rest knowing that the girls were safe doing what they did here, but outside, they were taking risks and they damn well knew it. Speaking of women, he scanned the area, and except for the occasional car, he saw nothing. According to popular rumors, and personal experience, he knew that he should be seeing tens, if not hundreds, of women. But as the rain fell, he saw nothing except the worn brick building that he hoped would give him refuge.

He finally swallowed his pride, and raised his hand to the beaten callbox, ringing for the manager. The line was dead for several seconds, and he keyed it again, and again nothing. "No one home, of fucking course." He was getting ready to just walk away, let the rain clear his head before coming back when he heard the voice.

"Yes?" He was and wasn't surprised that it was a woman who spoke. Rumors were that no men were allowed to live here, so if anything, that showed how desperate he was. The way his luck was running, the second she found out what he wanted, she would laugh and kick his ass out of the building.

"I'm here about the room for rent." He waited, knowing that the screw you was coming, she was just pausing for effect. But when she spoke, he realized that this wasn't the case.

"You got money?" He chuckled then, hearing her question made him realize that _this_ was the side of Old Town he was used to dealing with.

"Its as green as everyone else's."

"Come up, room 1414, don't make me come and find you."

"10-4." She didn't responded, but he heard the faint whine of a lock being disengaged. Quickly, he stepped inside, shaking the rain from his skin. The hall wasn't exactly what he expected it to be. He was thinking that the interior would match the outside; peeling paint with the halls littered with used condoms and cigarette buds. Instead the walls were covered with clean, if faded, white paint and inconspicuous beaten wooden doors showed that, like its tenants, there was more to this place than met the eye. As he walked towards the elevator, conveniently at the end of the hall, he kept expecting to see someone, because he could hear them, feel them; the faint click of a high heeled shoe, the whisper of fabric over skin, and the unique scent that all women seem to give off. When the doors slid shut, the scent seemed to intensify, but silence deafened him.

When the doors opened, the phantom sounds appeared and continued to follow, he kept looking out the corners of his eyes, and sometimes he caught a shadow, and he had to force himself to relax. He knew the rumors of Old Town, how the women here called all the shots and handed out justice as they saw fit. He knew they were true; more than one guy from his unit went missing after they left to visit this place. Granted, they were all pains in his ass, and he wasn't sad to see them gone, but knowing what the women did, and getting the feeling he was going to experience what that justice was, those were to very different things.

Eventually he found her door, again conveniently furthest from the elevator, which seemed to be the only exit. When he reached the door and raised his fist, he knocked twice, the sounds echoing throughout the hall. The scent seemed to focus itself behind him, and he had to resist the urge to turn around. It was his training he knew; whatever was behind him was another predator, one that he should face and prepare for. But he wasn't there for a fight; he was just looking for a bed, nothing else. The door opened, and again he reminded himself, _only the bed, nothing else._

She was something that he could appreciate that, he didn't doubt that. Long blonde hair, hourglass figure, smooth skin, she easily fit any number of fantasies he had. Hell, the leopard print, he didn't know whether to call it a dress or a body stocking, showed him everything she had. He couldn't help but think that his cousin, Marv, he would have enjoyed the view. Nothing else though, Marv was a guy who only looked, never touched, it was something he could always be proud of him for. He had the self-control that most men dreamed of having. _Gotta call him soon; see how him and his mom are doing. _He watched as she surveyed him, and again he got the feeling of a wolf staring down a deer, looking for the easiest way to bring it down. Slowly she pulled out a cigarette and after lighting it, seemed to take great care to blow the smoke into his face.

"What makes you think we have a room for rent?" Grudgingly, he fished the ad from his fatigues pocket, and shoved it into her hands. He took a moment as she stared at the paper to really look at her. She had the true Aryan look going. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and yet, he felt like he had seen her before. When his eyes found hers, she was staring at his with an unimpressed smirk. "See something you like," it sounded forced, but he wasn't going to take the bait. He was just here for a room, let the dame think what she wants.

"Yeah, a one bed, one bath that's for rent." She chuckled then, and stepped back into the room.

"Sorry, the rooms for my girls, and unless you're just really 'homely', you aren't getting the room." She started to close the door, but he caught it with his hand. He had come too far, and was tired. He wanted that room, even if it was just for the night.

"Listen Lady, I" she cut him off, fixing him with a hard stare.

"Let go." He heard the order, but refused, she might be a predator, but he saw no gun and he was bigger. He wasn't leaving without a room key.

"No, I want," he stopped when he felt it. The scent behind him intensified until it burned his eyes and pressed something to his neck. Dropping his gaze, he could make out the blade, it gleamed in the dim light of the hall, and the way it was pressed to his throat, he knew its wielder was only waiting for an order to take his head off.

"Before I let Miho kill you, tell me something, what's your name?" When he swallowed, he felt the edge drag against his skin, followed by the cool sting of metal as the blade pressed closer.

"Nikolas Hartigan." He watched as her eyes widened slightly, and then they hardened, and he waited for the scent behind him to kill him.

"You related to the pervert cop?" He growled then, and the blade gave him a warning slice before resuming its position at his neck. He resisted the urge to cup the blood that wept from his skin, and forced himself to speak calmly.

"John was no pervert."

"He raped little girls then killed them, and then when he got out, he killed himself after killing a few others. If he was innocent, why did he off himself?"

He answered her question with a question. "If he was doing that shit, why did it continue after he was locked up? If you call off your killer, I can prove that he didn't do it." The blade didn't move, but the woman lowered her hand.

"How?"

"In my bag, I have a file. I was deployed when I found out what happened to John. I started collecting evidence; comparing photos, DNA tests, all that shit. He wasn't the one that was hurting those girls. I can prove it to you, if you let me show you the file." She stared at him for what seemed like hours, before nodding.

"Miho, bring him inside, and check him for weapons." The blade never wavered, but he felt a small hand press against his back. He watched as the first woman bent down slowly, her eyes never leaving his, as she retrieved his bag, and stepped back, allowing the two into the door.

When they were inside, he heard the door shut, and that hand danced over his back, moving to his shoulders, and eventually down to his hips and legs. He resisted the urge to speak as that same hand moved over his body, grabbing and squeezing everything. Eventually it stopped, and he was pushed to the center of the room. "Turn." The same woman spoke and he obeyed. When he faced her, the owner of the blade, Miho, he noticed was gone. He knew it, he could no longer hear her, and her scent had faded to be replaced by hairspray and cigarette smoke. She threw him the bag, and as he dug for the file, he prayed that the rain hadn't destroyed it. Granted, the girl she called Miho was gone, but he knew she wouldn't have brought him in if she couldn't kill him.

Eventually he found what he was looking for, and was grateful that it was the one thing he owned that the rain hadn't totaled. When he passed it over, he noticed that she had changed. She wasn't the woman who answered the door. Someone who looked like she would be perfect for a night. She was a killer now, like him. She was just playing with him now; she could kill him before he knew what happened. As she flipped through the papers, he waited. He didn't expect her to shoot him, but he knew that she could kill him. Not with a knife, gun, or whatever, she was too classy for that; she would sick that phantom, Miho, on him and he'd be down before he knew what happened. "Okay," he looked up from the floor, and saw the file was open on her lap. She was watching him, and frankly it scared the hell out of him. Like he thought, this woman was cold and calculating, deadly.

"Okay what?"

"Let's say I believe you, why should I give you a room?"

"Because the army had no more use for me, I am a good man from a good family, and I just need some place to stay until I find someone." _And kill the fuckers who destroyed my family._

"Who?" He noticed her lips quirk up at his speech. The other woman was back, the flirt. _God, she has more sides to her than Marv. _

"I doubt you'd know who he is."

"Nikolas, is it?" He noticed she got the pronunciation correct. Many people simply assumed that it was Nicholas, but he was named after his mom's father, and he was Russian, whenever someone pronounced it properly, it made him feel respected. "I have met many men here, if he lives in Basin City, I've probably been hit on by him."

"Doubtful. Marv, as far as I knew, was never with a woman. Guy's kinda self-conscious of how he looks, ya know." He didn't miss her face change. The predator was back, and she was holding something back. She knew who Marv was, and that bothered him. Marv never really 'knew' any woman, and the fact that this high-dollar whore did, didn't make any sense.

"Hes dead, the state executed him two years ago for the murder of eight women, and two men, one of them a cardinal." Her statement hit him like a bullet in the chest. _Marv was dead?_ While he knew the guy was going to die eventually, he figured it would have been a lucky shot in a bar brawl, not in the electric chair. And killing women, unlikely; Marv worshipped women the way most people worship God. He had never even been with a woman, and for someone to say he killed seven, he couldn't believe it. "I was there when they buried him. He didn't do it." He looked up when she said that, he could see the tears in her eyes. Most guys would say that it was just anger there, and it was, but there was also sorrow. She cried for Marv.

"I _know_ he didn't. Marv was a killer, yeah, but he never hurt girls. I don't doubt that he might've killed the other two, but the women, not a chance." She nodded, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her. He'd seen troops like her before. People who carry the world around on their shoulders, and let the shit bury them when no one is around to see them suffer. "What happened to his mom?"

He watched her rise, and go over to a closet, when she opened it; he noticed a leather duster hanging in the back. He knew it was way too big for her, and the thing looked beat to hell, and if he wasn't mistaken, stained with blood. _Definitely Marv's. _"She stayed with us for a little while, she knew he didn't do what the papers said, and knew that if she made any noise about it, they would kill her too. She died a few months ago, I think out of grief."When she came back, he noticed that she was holding a key. Wordlessly she passed it to him, and he stood, digging into his pocket for the pathetic bundle of twenties that was his life savings. "No," she stopped him when he tried to hand it to her. "What's your name?"

"Wendy."

"Well Wendy, I don't take charity." He threw the bundle onto the floor, and gripping the bag, stormed out of her room. He refused to show weakness in front of her. She thought she knew his family, his brother, his cousin; she didn't know shit. True, they had their problems, but it was all he had, all he had had. He stomped to a random door at the opposite end of the hall, and with a silent prayer, turned the key into the lock. Grateful that it opened, he took in the plain setting. A single, large, empty room and what he assumed was a bathroom off to the side. It was more than he had before. Dragging his things into the bathroom, he slung them over the shower bar, hoping that they'd be somewhat dry by morning.

* * *

><p>When the window broke, he didn't panic. He spun around on the improvised mat on the floor, his hand already pulling the 1911 from his bag. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he could see the broken glass on the floor from the single window. He crawled slowly, half-expecting a red dot to dance across the cheap wood paneling, but saw none. Instead, he could make out what looked like a steel rod, pinning an envelope to the floor. With some force, he pulled it free and after opening it, a pile of crisp twenties fell to the floor, along with a piece of metal. Lifting it, he saw it was his money clip; he could even make out his sergeants bars that were engraved into the steel. It was then the scent filled the room, and he felt a sharp point at his side. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but enough to let him know it was there.<p>

"You finally going to kill me now?" He didn't expect her to answer, she hadn't spoken before, why start now? That was when she didn't something he never expected. He felt a soft breath near his ear, and he tensed even more.

"The women of Old Town don't accept charity either." With that the point was gone, the smell disappeared, and he knew he was alone. Stooping, he picked up the cash and walked to the window, the rain had stopped and the moon was out. Across the street on the roof, he could just make out the silhouette of a woman, and the gleam of steel. "What the fuck have I gotten myself into?" _Maybe the church would have been bett__er after all?_

* * *

><p>I know, kind of random right? Humor me though, and give me a review. Tell me it sucked, tell me it rocked, whatever, I'm not picky. If I get at least one 'favorite story', 'story alert' or review, I will write more. As far as Nikolas goes, I did not write myself in. He is a combination of about five people I know; I just gave him an old family name.<p>

Take it Easy,

-N


	2. Rules

Rules

For the one person who bothered to review, Serendipity's tears, I thank you. Like you asked, here is the second chapter. Enjoy.

-N

* * *

><p>He woke up to the sound of heels clicking. Slowly, his mind pushed through the fog, and he realized where he was. He, Nikolas Hartigan, former U.S. Army staff sergeant, was currently sleeping on the floor of a crappy apartment in the middle of Old Town. <em>Fan-fucking-tastic. <em>Rising, he listened to the creaks his body made, and dragged himself with his still damp bag into the bathroom. In the light he took the time to examine it, a beaten sink, a shower without the curtain, and a stained toilet in the corner. "Only the best in Old Town."

Shaking the thought from his head, he pulled the clothes down from the shower bar, only somewhat grateful that they had gone from soaked to slightly moist. Turning to the sink, he was relieved that the water from the sink was hot. Looking around, he found several small bars of soap tucked up on a shelf near the porcelain. He recognized the wrappings, motel soaps, but anything was better than nothing. Hell, he knew why they were there; he was just grateful he found something to use that wasn't pre-loved. The soap made a decent paste for his shave, granted, anything was better than dry shaving, but still; being enlisted, he learned to enjoy the little things.

The rasp of the straight razor against his skin was deafening in the quiet room, but it didn't bother him, after all the phantom noises, hidden scents, and lurking blades from the night before, true quiet was something he was thankful for having. Finished, he dug for the cleanest fatigues he had; and after pulling them on, gathered his things and walked to the door. That was when he saw it.

It was a simple thing, a manila envelope sitting just in front of the door. He quickly scanned the room and breathed deep. No one was there, no psychotic women with swords, or guns for that matter. It was just him, and whatever the envelope was. Opening it, he tilted it down into his hands, and several papers dumped out. Walking to the shattered window, he read what they were, and was shocked by it. She had obviously taken the time to write this, and the writing seemed like her, elegant and to the point.

_If you want to live in Old Town, follow the rules. Rule one, this is an apartment building, that holds women and now sadly, you. _He ignored the jab, but continued. _These are my girls and friends, if I find out you treated them poorly, I will kill you _personally_. Rule two, everyone works. Get a job and pay your rent, or you will be gone. _'You will be gone.' He figured that the ultimatum ended the same way as rule one. No money, no life. _Finally, if we tell you to do something, do it. We are in charge here, not you. Violate the rules at your own peril. Rent is due at the beginning of each month. _He flipped through the papers, passing over a contract, he settled on a smaller, again hand written note. _You have twenty four hours to start making some cash or you're out. P.S. you owe me a window._

She didn't need to sign it for him to know who sent it. It reeked of cheap cigarettes. "Wendy." Nodding, he gathered them and tossed them into center of the room. Looking at the empty space and broken window, he realized sadly that it was all he had; now if he wanted to stay, to keep it, he needed work. As an afterthought, he threw his bag to join the papers. If he didn't find anything today, he hoped she would have the decency to just place his stuff on the curb, and not in the dumpster. Going into the hall, he saw a woman waiting for the elevator. Again he thought he recognized her. Light brown skin, short black hair, petite. He might have known her, but all the girls here looked alike, desirable and deadly, in whatever order you choose.

As he moved, he made sure that his steps known, the last thing he needed was a bullet to the head. When he was behind her, he caught a scent he hadn't experienced in a while. He knew the stink of Sobranie smokes anywhere. He had picked up a few dozen packs as a gift for Marv when he was in Stalingrad. Figured the guy could use a little variety in his life, unlike the crappers that he always seemed to be smoking.

When the bell dinged, she walked forward, and stuck a hand out to keep the doors open. He didn't panic at her actions; panicking was something he just didn't do. He was only apprehensive. While he wouldn't have to wait for it to come back up, sharing the ride with this woman just didn't feel right. "You coming or what?" He heard the question and, after again weighing the options, entered behind her. At this point, he just wanted out of the building and to find a job, to live the American dream, he figured that wasn't asking too much. When he turned around, he watched the doors close, and felt her stare on his skin. Staring at the imperfections in the metal in front of him, he refused to look towards her, at this point even acknowledge her. "You know men aren't allowed to stay overnight, right?" He kept his gaze on the door, and would have preferred that she just kept quiet, but then he remembered the blonde's goddamned rules. He knew he was being rude; he didn't need some broad to remind him how to act around people. _So dumbass, for the sake of your worthless hide, make small-talk._

"I guess then that that makes me the exception." He turned to face her, and those eyes were thinking. Like Wendy, she was calculating weaknesses, but unlike Wendy, he knew she was packing. Even through her tight leather jacket, he could make out the grip of at least one handgun, and he only had the clothes on his back, a pocket full of references, and a can of dried out chew. _Perfect._

"How so?" Those eyes never left his, and he answered calmly. If training taught him one thing, it was how to act under pressure.

"Wendy gave me a room for the night. Hell, I might even be moving in." She laughed then, no, more like cackled. He figured he knew what it was about. A man in Old Town for more than a few hours, if he was anyone else, he'd be laughing too. Eventually, she stopped, and kept analyzing him with those damn eyes. "Miss, I don't mean to be rude," she smirked, _lovely_. "But I just want to get out and find a job." He raised his hand to the buttons in what was now feeling like a prison cell to him. "Which floor are you heading for?" With that same damn smirk on her face, she slapped his hand away and pressed the 'ground' button.

As they descended, she remained quiet. It was bothersome, considering she seemed like she wanted to keep laughing at him, but she didn't. No more small-talk, no questions, just quiet. When they arrived, he could have sworn that he smelled that scent. The scent of a killer, he rolled his neck, and sure enough, he caught the edge of blue fabric, slipping behind a closed door. His companion caught what he was staring at, and again, cackled. "You don't want Miho. She'd be the last thing you _ever_ did." With a grin and a nod, he pulled the can from his pocket, and slapped it against his hand.

"I have no doubt about that." When he was satisfied, he popped the can open. He then took a moment to breathe in the scent of wintergreen, and watching the woman beside him, slid the tobacco into his lip. Slowly, she pursed her lips together, and he watched the disgust fill her eyes. He knew he could relax then, he was no longer a threat to her, just disgusting; it felt nice.

"You know that shit will give you cancer, right?" Slowly, he smiled.

"Yeah, but it tastes good." She watched, half-amazed and disgusted, as he held it in his lip, no desire to spit on his face. "And speaking on cancer, you shouldn't talk too loud. Sobranies have about three times the cancer causing agents in them that my chew does." Her eyes widened then, and slowly, she smiled. Not a, 'I'm gonna kick your ass,' or a 'kiss my ass' smile; no, this one said, 'yeah good point, but I'm not gonna quit, so you might as well shut up about it.' "I don't suppose you know any place that's hiring?" He felt her eyes on him again, but this time, it felt good. He always felt he was the best looking in the family. Hell, being built like Marv, and having John's eyes, he got the best traits out of the three of them. Broke his mom's heart when he said he wasn't ever gonna get married.

"You a fighter or a flirt?"

"Depends on whose asking?" Again with that cackle. Part of him was wishing he had met her back in the service; she seemed like the kind of gal who could give as good as she got in a fight. _You don't like her. You just need info._

"Well, The Amigo is hiring, but you have to audition. The only other place around is a bar, Kadies, I heard they need a new doorman. Did you serve in the Navy?"

"Army, why?"

"Then you would enjoy the atmosphere at Kadies more than The Amigo, trust me." _Katies, god its been a while. Wonder if I can still get free drinks there?_ He gave her a nod of thanks, and she watched him start to walk away. "You know where you're going?" Her only answer was a wave, and she watched as he disappeared around a corner.

* * *

><p>Turning back to the building, Gail slammed her way through the front door and stomped her way to the elevator. She was pissed, not only does some fucking john give her crap about her smokes; he has the balls to say that Wendy was going to let him move into the building. "Bullshit." After what seemed like hours, she was pounding a hole through Wendy's door, and burning her way through her second smoke.<p>

Eventually, Wendy had dragged herself to the door, and with a smoke clenched in her hand, found herself staring down her closest friend and best enforcer. "Gail, its eight in the morning, someone better have been shot."

"We need to talk." Hanging her head, she stepped back, allowing the woman to enter. When Gail sat down on the beaten furniture, she saw the duster was draped over Wendy's couch. Judging by how it was half on the floor, she figured that the girl had slept with it again. She watched as Wendy came back into the room; and almost like she was half-asleep, she pulled the jacket over her shoulders, and reached for the lighter on the table beside her. It was sad really, she was looking at the most powerful woman in Old town, acting like a girl her first night working the streets. "You were dreaming about him again, weren't you?"

Gail watched as Wendy nodded, and after lighting the smoke, took a long drag. "It doesn't matter," slowly, her face changed so that the predator was in control, not the broken woman. "Now, why did you feel the need to wake me up so fucking early?"

Flicking her cigarette bud into the ashtray, Gail rose and started to pace the room's floor. "I ran into a guy this morning, he had stayed overnight." She watched the blonde, but saw no change in her face. "Guy was built like him," she raised a hand to the jacket Wendy was wrapping around herself. "Almost seven feet tall, but didn't have the guy's looks. He said that you were gonna let him live here? Any truth to that?"

"He said he was Marv's cousin, I believe him." Gail let out a groan. This woman can't seem to shake off the memory of that man. She would never deny that Marv was a good man, hell, probably the best man _ever, _but the only reason that Roark hadn't come after them was because they acted like they were glad he was dead. Marv died a hero, and they could only admit that in secret. Still though…

"Okay, but what do we do when other guys want to get a room? If people find out a guy is living in Old Town, they'll come back." Wendy didn't need to her to explain who 'they' were. She remembered the gangs and the pimps; back then, the girls considered it a good night if all they got was a chipped tooth or a black eye.

"If he doesn't get a job by tonight, he's out."

"That's not good enough."

"Miho is watching him." Gail was silent at that. If Miho was following the guy, he would be dead before he could do anything to harm the girls. But then again…

"Miho can't watch him all the time, what happens if she misses something? What if he does something she can't stop?"

"Then, you can make an example of him," Wendy saw that the woman wasn't expecting that answer, but she still nodded her head in acceptance. "Anything else?" Gail just shook her head, and walked to the door. She had no problems with killing, if fact, she enjoyed it. But this guy, hell, he had talked to her like she was a person, not a whore. She wouldn't blink when she pulled the trigger, but that didn't mean she wouldn't feel bad afterwards.

* * *

><p>He heard the sound of steel guitars when he first turned down the alleyway. It made him glad that some things didn't change. When he got to the door, he raised his fist, and pounded. It surprised him when the door swung forward. "We're not open." In the dim light, he watched what he thought was a woman walk over to him. He recognized her alright.<p>

"Kadie, it's been way too long." She, or maybe it was he, still hadn't changed. Overweight with too much makeup; Kadie looked after Marv and him when either was out of cash. Kadie was a good person to them, and always had a stool and cold beer waiting for them when they needed it. The old transsexual even treated John right, even though he was a cop. Him and Marv though, she/he spoiled them; mostly though, he figured the kindness was out of guilt. They did favors for him/her, and he was hopeful that she/he would still be in that kind of charitable mood.

"Nik honey, that you?" He only laughed as he saw her dump a clean bucket on the beaten bar. Gazing around, he noticed that most of the windows had been replaced.

"Yeah, how've you been Kadie?" She/he did something then he wasn't expecting, he was grabbed and pulled into a hug he expected from a short guy, not a large woman.

"I am so sorry," she/he stepped back then, and he could see the tears in her/his eyes. Kadie turned, facing the bar, and he followed his/her gaze. Above the bar, he could see two beaten frames, one holding a mug shot of Marv, and the other with John. He could see that someone had taken a black marker and wrote on the wall above them, 'We'll Never Forget.'

"Don't be, I don't need it." He watched as Kadie walked around behind the bar, and pulled out the booze, and two shot glasses. Wordlessly, she/he poured and slid him one. Granted, it was only nine thirty in the morning, but he wasn't one to complain. After the burn had passed, he spoke. "Kadie, I need a favor."

"Done, what is it?"

"You don't even want to know?"

"Nik, you and Marv helped me out; you both were like my boys. I owe you and want to help, so, what do you need?"

"A job. I heard that you needed a new doorman."

"I guess you could say that, last guy lost his nerve and walked out last night. Left me hanging," he/she poured them each another shot. "But you wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

He laughed then, Kadie truly was his mother; when she/he needed something, she/he broke out the guilt. "Course not, so, is there a job?" Kadie just nodded and walked away. He was used to these types of answers, but needed to know if he was having a roof over his head tonight meant more than normal. "Is that a yes or no?"

He/she stopped then, giving him a strange look. "Yes, of course, you hungry?" He nodded and watched as he/she walked back into the kitchen. "Nik, you start tonight at sundown, probably be done around three. Your 'how to' rules for tonight around over the bar, under the boys." _Great, more rules. _He looked, and sure enough, he could make out a scrap of white paper among the bottles. '1. No fighting. 2. No dancing on the tables.' He noticed then, two extra lines. The first one looked like it was written by a woman's hand, elegant and legible. '3. Tip you cheap bastards.' But the one that stuck out was the last line. He knew that scribble anywhere, bold and sloppy like a five year old had written it. '4. Hands off the girls AND Nancy.'

_Marv,_ he turned to the photos again, and raised his shot glass to his clan on the wall. _Don't worry guys, I'll get the Asshole. _Looking around, he saw a paper on the bar, grabbing it, he didn't stop the growl in his throat. A huge photograph of Senator Roark in the Basin City Cemetery, laying flowers on the graves of his psychotic brother, and pedophile son; it even had an article that went into great detail about how he continued to grieve because of losing them, and how he wished he could ask their killers why they did what they did. Throwing the paper away, he pulled the can from his pocket and loaded his lip. _Don't worry Roark, you'll see them_ real_ soon._

* * *

><p>At three thirty he finally finished clearing the barroom. The night had been quiet, he guessed. Only one fight, and that was taken care of by Kadie, who just poured the two guys a shot each, then they were buddies again. The girls though, he remembered being a kid and thankful that they learned his name, but now, he was thankful they were around. A bunch of girls in skimpy leather, ready to flirt, they knew how to make nine hours fly by. He even got a chance to watch Nancy on stage. He could see then why Marv put his warning on the stage. He didn't have to do much, the guys just knew he was behind them, and they stayed in their seats, hands in their pockets.<p>

Nancy though, there was a girl who needed some help. She told him about John and Marv, what they had done for her. It didn't surprise him that she loved both of the guys. Didn't surprise him either that John never made a move; according to his letters, he would only see her as the skinny little eleven year old girl, not a twenty something bombshell ready and willing. As far as Marv, she was grateful for him being there, he was the combination guard dog and big brother she never had. He was more than happy to listen to her talk about his family, anything to be around something that good to look at. Still though, he was working, and when it came time to close up, he walked her to her piece of shit car, and waited until she was out of sight before heading back in.

Now, he was heading back to Old Town with three hundred bucks in his pocket. He tried to leave two at the bar, but Kadie started throwing empty bottles at him to take the cash and leave. It was then, that he smelt her again. He looked up, and sure enough, he caught the tail end of fabric pulling itself away from the roof edge. "I just can't get a break, can I?"

* * *

><p>He was rounding the corner, when he could hear a moan from the random alleys, he didn't think too much of it, it was Old Town, until he heard the slap. Stopping, he turned, and entering the shadows, could make out a tall frame, pulling a revolver over a girl in some cowboy get up. <em>Fucking animal.<em> He moved quietly, taking care to wait until he was right behind the guy to make some noise. When the guy turned, he slammed his head into the wall, and tackled him into the pavement. Grabbing his head with his hands, he jerked it hard to the right. He remembered from the military, that it took sixty pounds of force to sever the cervical spine from the rest of the spinal column; it didn't bother him when he used two hundred and ten.

He stood up then, and walked out of the alley. He didn't stop when the phantom steps walked right behind him, he just kept moving. He reached for his can, and thankful there was enough for one last pinch, loaded his lip. "If you're gonna kill me just do it. If not, let me see you, you're making me paranoid." He felt her hand on his shoulder then, and he stopped. With a sigh, he turned around and looked the woman up and down. He figured she was about five two on a good day, and had perfect skin. She really did look like the cliché china doll; pale white skin, long dark hair, quiet. Perfect, except for the part where she can kill a guy with the sword at her hip.

"So, you're Miho huh?" A nod. "I take it you're not much of a talker?" Again, another nod. Turning his back to her, he headed back to the apartment building. "Nice talking to you."

* * *

><p>When he arrived, he pulled the key out, and again, that woman was there. She was pulling his bag apart, and she already had his 1911 tucked into her belt. "Really?" He lifted her eyes from his things, and after pulling her damn sword, pointed to an area against the wall, where she could see him. He went slowly, and as an afterthought, ignoring her blade, collected the rent papers from a spot on the floor. He pulled then apart slowly, and after finding what he wanted, signed then and slipped all but fifty dollars into the envelope. "Want to do me a favor?" She stopped what she was doing, and cocked her head to the side. He threw the bundle to her feet, and rose. Again, ignoring her glare, made his way to the bathroom. "Give that to Wendy for me," he heard the sound of glass breaking and yelled. "Please use the door!"<p>

He was pleased with himself as he heard the battered wood squeak open and close. Smiling, he made his way back to the main room, and was surprised to find his things were folded and in order on the floor. Placing them back into his bag, he wandered to the kitchen, and found the 1911 on the counter. Dropping the magazine, he was surprised that it was loaded. When he arrived, he only had three shots left. Now he had nine. "Dear Penthouse," he made his way back to his things, and proceeded to again build his nest. "You'll never believe what happened to me…"

* * *

><p>"And he didn't do anything to Dallas then, he just killed the John and left? He just broke the guy's neck, never said anything, didn't take anything from the guy's pockets? He just killed him and walked away?" Again, Miho just nodded. "And he had nothing in his shit to show he was gang related, not a recruiter, or a pimp?" The woman just nodded, and she couldn't wrap her head around Nikolas. He was a talker, but he didn't act like an ass. He was smart, alomst too much so for his own good. The fact too that he killed a person and walked away like nothing happened didn't escape her either. "Keep an eye on him," her gaze fell on the rent papers and the beer soaked twenties on her end table. <em>Something new is in Old Town,<em> she stared at the door. _Gotta keep an eye on it._

* * *

><p>Sorry about the delay. Enjoy and remember, reviewalerts mean more to come. Take it Easy, -N


	3. The Little Things

The little Things

Sorry for the slight delay, and please enjoy. –N.

* * *

><p>It was the breeze that woke him. His watch was reading five AM, and his body was begging for more sleep, but with now two broken widows, and the first hint of winter coming, he couldn't let fatigue get the better of him. He needed windows, and today would be the best. Stumbling to his bag, he dumped it out, and tried to tie it against the broken glass. The air was still blowing in, but most of it was being kept out. Satisfied, he kicked the pile of clothes away from the opening into a corner farthest from the breeze, and tried to fall back to sleep.<p>

He figured it was now nine when the pounding on the door broke him from his dreams. He was almost tempted to grab the pistol and fire a round into the door, but then he remembered where he was. Grudgingly, he reached for his pants, and a somewhat clean wife beater, pulled them on. "It's open." The one from the elevator stomped her way in, and he knew that he was screwed. It might've been the way her eyes were blazing, it could've been the low growl she was giving him, it might've even been that with him on the floor, her five foot three height made her seem like she towered over him, but Nik was willing to settle on the modified Uzi that she was currently pointing at him.

"What happened last night?" He forced himself to not look towards his gun that was currently under the windows on the other side of the room, and pulled the can out of his pocket. _Empty, of course. _He threw the can towards the bathroom, and just met her eyes.

"I got a job, got paid, and signed my rent papers. What about you?" He knew that he should have kept the smartass out of his voice, especially when she put a round into the floor. The faint scream below meant that his neighbor was now awake and moving.

"I'm talking about Dallas." _Dallas? _It took him a minute to figure out what she meant. Soon though, he was laughing. He didn't even stop when the muzzle was pressed against his temple.

"I'm sorry," he swatted the gun away, but it was against his head again. "I just was enjoying the cleverness of her name and outfit." His voice went flat, monotone. "I heard a moan, a slap, and found some asshole pointing a revolver at her. Guy was an animal; I put him down, and walked away. Ask your killer china doll, she was there."

He waited as he watched her eyes continue to blaze. Any second, he expected to be talking to Marv and John, possibly while trying to pick up Marilyn Monroe. Instead, the gun fell to her side, and she turned back to the door. He expected her to just leave, but then she turned, and those eyes kept trying to burn him alive. "What's your game?"

He cocked his head to the side, again, the women here never failing to confuse him. "Excuse me?"

"No man just saves a whore without wanting something."

He growled then. She thought she had him figured that he only helped that woman to get a freebie. _What will it take to get it through their heads? _"I did it because it was the right thing to do." She nodded, but he could tell she didn't believe it. "What's your name?"

"Gail."

"Well, Gail, I honestly don't give a damn if you believe me or not. I come from good stock, and when we see a man do wrong by a woman, we take care of it. So, are you gonna believe me, or kill me, it's your choice. I'm unarmed," he waved towards his gun. "And we're in Old Town. No one would ever question you killing me, so either do it, or leave me the hell alone." He saw her arm twitch, and the gun start to rise, but it fell against her hip, and she turned to the door.

"Just watch yourself."

She was gentle with the door, and he was surprised that she was capable of such a thing. Turning back to the bare room, he couldn't resist asking. "Know where I can get a cheap bed?"

He listened and heard the dull thump of her heels stop on the carpet, and he crawled to the kitchen. Any second, he expected a hail of gunfire to blast through the door. "Watch the curb," he heard her yell clear enough, followed by the faint ding of the elevator.

Rubbing his face, he cringed when he caught wind of himself. Rising, he went to the bathroom, and groaned when he saw the shower without a curtain. Settling on the sink, he scrubbed his face and arms using the cheap soap slivers. Finished, he shook himself and wandered back into the living room. _Something to cover the windows, a shower curtain, and if there's any change, chew. _

* * *

><p>The air outside was cool, but it didn't bother him. He wandered the sidewalks, and found what he was looking for, a little hole in the wall, Ma and Pa hardware store. He smiled when he heard the bell ring, and started to wander the aisles. He found the glass, easily enough. The problem was that it was twenty bucks a pane. <em>Screw that, <em>he found the garbage bags and duct tape easily enough, he even found a shower curtain. Granted, it was pink, but it was something. Twenty dollars later, he was almost giddy when he found a gas station.

It wasn't anything spectacular, just a little two pump station, but the neon sign, smokes, made up for it. He noticed a kid behind the counter, probably a freshman home from school for break, he figured. They gave a nod to each other, and he wandered the aisles. He found cheap soap easily enough, along with a few sticks of deodorant. He heard the doors ding, and ignored it. But the female laughter drew his attention to the registers.

He could see the bruise on her cheek, even with the concealer. She was either Indian, the American kind, or Mexican, he couldn't be completely sure. But he was certain that the southern drawl was put on. He spent enough time in the south to know a fake accent from the real thing. Again, like all the women here, she was curvy, and she knew it. He watched her hands wander as she flirted with the kid. He smiled when she pocketed a pack of Marlboros while the kid was focused on her chest. Smiling, she gave a wave, turned, threw him a wink and wandering out the door, laughing when the alarm went off.

Shaking his head, he walked to the counter, and grinned when he saw the grizzly behind the counter. "Two cans," the kid jumped, stilling watching her, Dallas, walking away, lighting a smoke. By some miracle, he did have enough left to pay for everything, and just shook his head as the kid continued to stare. "She'd eat you alive boy," he walked out, but not before he heard what any other guy would think.

"Might be worth it."

* * *

><p>He had the windows taped shut when the knocking started again. It was different from this morning's wake up call, soft and gentle. It made him hesitant. If it was a hard pounding, or a no-bullshit kind of knock, he would've opened the door no problem. The noise started to get louder, and that was when he opened it. "Of course," no one was there. But <em>she <em>had been there, Miho. He was starting to think of her his own personal ghost. Always making noise, but never seen until she wanted to scare him. He almost closed the door when he saw it.

The thing was a little beat, and thankfully wasn't stained, but it was still a mattress. He figured that it was for a double sized bed, but having only the floor recently, he didn't complain. With a grunt, he lifted it into the room, and threw it into the center of the floor. He figured he had close to eight hours before he had to be at Kadies. Lying down on the beaten springs, he moaned at the relief he felt, until he was covered in her stink. With a groan, he climbed off and crawled as far from it as he could. "That woman has a twisted sense of kindness."

* * *

><p>"Enough!" Nik didn't hesitate to break the guy's arm. With a scream, he went down, and jerking the limb, flipped him over onto his back. Pinning him to the floor with his boot, he emptied the guy's pockets onto the floor and dragged him, still screaming, out the door. He returned to the room, grabbing the cash on the ground, threw it up on the stage. "Rule four guys," his yell got every man's attention. "HANDS OFF NANCY!" They went back to the drinks and staring at Nancy, and he resumed his place at the door.<p>

The crowd was more restless tonight, Kadie said it was a combination of it being Friday, pay day, and that it was during happy hour. She said that Mondays would be easier, that on ladies night the crowd was much more manageable. Still though, looking at the guys panting hard and trying to play grab ass with the waitresses, he didn't know if he could wait til then. He was grateful when the heavy bass stopped, signaling that Nancy was taking a break. The catcalls flew and she gave a wave before going to change. When she finished, he figured could shoot the shit with her, at least for a little while.

It did bother him though when the girls walked in. He recognized them easily enough, no bullshit Wendy, shoot first then shoot again Gail, the flirt Dallas, and as the door started to swing shut, the killer china doll slipped in. They either didn't know he was there, or refused to acknowledge him as they made their way to the bar. He took a step forward when a group of guys started sniffing around, and they got the message. He figured each person deserved a fighting chance, so he decided to give them a heads up when they were about to mess with shit they couldn't handle.

He couldn't help but watch them, he wasn't sure what was going on, but it seemed like it was just a girls night out. They had all ordered drinks, top shelf, but that Miho, only water. It was intriguing, he figured. They all talked and laughed, but she said nothing. Sure, she nodded her head, acknowledging the others, but other than that, stone silence. It was around that time, that he noticed she was staring right back at him. She wasn't reaching for her sword, so that was a relief, but those eyes were blank. Remembering the rules, he gave her a nod, and she returned it before looking away.

He lost track of how long they were there, until one of the guys from earlier was stupid enough to try something. He was already moving when he tried to put a hand on Miho. "Buddy, I think you should leave," the answer he got was spit in his eyes and a fist in his guts. He didn't even flinch at the pain. Pain was his drug, the more he got, the stronger he felt. He had the drunk on the floor with at least a broken nose before his friends could even rise.

Then, they were around him as the other was rising. _Five against one, not the best, but I've had worse. _The girls had grabbed their drinks and moved. Smiling, he brought his boot up into the first's face. He felt the guy's cheek shatter against his toe and Nik knew he would stay on the ground. Two of the guy's friends rushed him together, and it may have worked if they hadn't been drinking all night. One tripped over his own feet, knocking himself out against the bar. The other, a hit to his chest and another to the side of his head put him down. He felt the knife graze his shoulder then. The remainders each pulled one, nothing special, just stilettos. Blocking the first, he buried the blade into its owner's leg. The last guy though, he figured he lost his nerve. He chose to just run. If he was angry, he would have followed, but to Nik, this was just a little fun.

"Go back to your drinks." He saw Kadie had already poured two shots for him at the bar, and he just started to drag the losers out the door. When he got the last one outside, he took the time to twist the blade in his leg, grinning at the guy's scream. Going back to the bar, he threw the first shot back, and dumped the other on his shoulder, laughing at the pain. He noticed that Nancy was sitting at the bar then, a beer in her hand.

"Are you sure you don't want the Army to take you back?"

"Why, I'm having too much fun."

* * *

><p>Kadie decided to close early that night. Two fights in a row, more than just broken bones with one of them. Shehe didn't want the cops nosing around, and he had to agree with her/him. He had just gotten back; he didn't need people to know who he was, yet. Closing was easy enough. Only one drunk and the girls were still there, and he was a decent enough guy. Laughed the entire walk to the cab Nik had called for him. When that was finished, he went back, and the girls were saying their goodbyes. As they walked out, Gail and Wendy didn't give him as much as a smile. With Dallas, he got a wink and a smile, correction, a grin. Miho though, she stopped, gave him a nod, and slipped out the door with the others. That, he could use. That, he could appreciate. Respect was something he always wanted.

It was around one thirty when he reached the building. He was surprised when he saw the recliner sitting on the curb. Sure, it was beaten, and he was willing to bet that the feet didn't go up, but it was leather, and after a careful whiff, didn't smell like a woman. He could live with that.

* * *

><p>Dragging it to the door, he managed to finagle it inside, and with some effort, got it into the elevator. The old machine seemed to groan at the extra weight, but made it up to the floor okay. When he got there though, he felt himself drowning in a sea of cheap perfume. The noise coming from Wendy's room had to mean a party, and it was obvious that he wasn't invited, but what did he care. It just meant that he'd have a little trouble getting to sleep that night, that's all.<p>

He finally managed to get the stupid thing into his room, and groaned at the smell. It seemed to have drifted out of the mattress and fill the room. He went to his clothes, and sure enough it was there as well. "God, it's like living with a cat." He tore the bags off the windows, and was willing to brave the cold if it meant he could breathe in peace. Finished, he went back to the chair and shoved it into a corner, out of the breeze. It was then he caught wind of himself, cheap beer, cheap smokes, and sweat. _Lovely. _He was pulling his jeans down when he heard the knock.

Moving to the bathroom, he closed the door and yelled, "It's open." He didn't come out of the bathroom, just continued to strip and turned on the water. "Give me five." He felt someone's presence outside the door, but this time, it didn't bother him. He had his pistol with him, water never bothered stainless steel, and so if they tried something, he'd be ready. Finished, he shook himself and pulling the jeans back on, tucked the pistol into the back of his waistband. He stopped himself before leaving though. _You'll shoot your ass off, _pulling it out; he held it loosely at his side and walked out.

She was waiting for him. He saw that same annoying little china doll perched at the edge of his recently found chair, and he only groaned. _Now that'll stink like her too. _"Miho, what brings you to my little piece of paradise?" She didn't say anything, but just looked at his gun, to the door and back to him. "Not much for parties huh?" Not that he was surprised, she just nodded, and he wandered over to the mattress, dropping the pistol. "Thanks for the mattress," her eyes widened for only a second at his thanks, but by the time he noticed, her mask was back in place. "I'd offer you a drink but," he waved an arm at the empty room. "Money is kind of tight right now."

He laughed when she pulled a can of beer from the side of the chair and threw it at him. Nik nodded his thanks as she produced a second and popped the top, taking a long pull. Normally, he hated silence, it put him on edge, but he could learn to live with hers. It was a peaceful type of quiet, not the deafening normal one. He laughed when she was finished before him, but pounded his, and rose, taking the empties into the kitchen. When he came back, she had managed to pull the feet up, and was looking out his windows. The view was kind of nice, he figured. If people didn't know any better, they might think that this was Chicago, not Basin "Sin" City. He just stood next to her, she tensed when he first approached, but after five minutes or so, relaxed again.

It was almost three when he decided he should get some sleep. _Shit, you're blacking out again, like Marv._ His neck popped when he looked down at her. Those damned eyes of hers were closed, and her body was relaxed. In a way, she looked almost approachable, but he had a feeling that she could come alive with that sword pretty damn quick, which was why Nik didn't understand his reasoning for throwing his jacket over her. Those eyes snapped open, and he heard the snick of the blade in its scabbard, but he just didn't care. He turned away and felt those eyes burning into his back as he started to lie down on the mattress. "If you decide to leave, then go out through the door." Nik considered it a small victory when he didn't hear her move. In fact, as he lay drowning in her scent, he realized that, once you get past the no talking and born killer attitude she had, Miho wasn't that bad a person to be around. After all, it's the little things, _like a chair, chew and a mattress, _that really matter.

* * *

><p>Sorry for the delay, it is the season. Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and please remember that reviews equal more chapters. Take it Easy, -N.<p> 


	4. Visits

Visits

Ready, set, here we go. Enjoy, -N.

* * *

><p>He was surprised that she had stayed the night. It was morning when the feet of the chair slammed down, and he was up with the gun looking around the room. Big mistake. She had him on his back, her hips pinning his, and her blade was against his neck by the time he realized what the sound had been. If he wasn't worried about what could happen, he might've said something about the position they were in. Instead, he dropped the gun and held his hands out in surrender. She seemed to mull his decision over, and settled for giving him a light cut down his cheek. She climbed off of him slowly, and sheathing the blade, gave him a pointed look. He knew what it meant, <em>you deserved it asshole. <em>"Ya know, it's been a while," he dragged himself off the floor and moved to the kitchen. "Since I've had a woman spend the night, can I buy ya breakfast?" He smiled when he saw the confusion on her face. "I'll even let you pick something that's _not _on the dollar menu."

Nik was still laughing long after she left. Her answer was simple, the finger and her slamming the door behind him. That was when he felt the chill in the air. It seemed to have gotten worse from yesterday. He was able to salvage the bags, and eventually had them back in place. He was in the shower when he really started to think about what needed to be done. He needed something else besides the pistol. Nine shots wouldn't last forever. Groaning, he got out and started to dig through the empty drawers in the kitchen. He was still dripping onto the floor when he found it.

It was simple, and seemed perfect. At one time, it might have been a Phillips screwdriver, but the owner had filed the end down to a point. He tested it against his thumb, and grinned when it drew blood, "Perfect." He was getting dressed when he remembered what day it was. He became slower then, and after finishing, he pocketed the screwdriver, pulled his boots on and walked out the door.

* * *

><p>The walk seemed to take longer than he figured it should. He remembered the way though easily enough. The whole family would walk there together; grandma said that that way, they were being more respectful. Eventually, he made it to the gates, and wasn't surprised when he found they were locked. With a shrug, he climbed over and continued his way. He remembered the one time that he, Marv, and John had tried to skip out going here. It had been his 21st, and they were all hung over. They thought they thought they had gotten away with it; until Marv's mom slammed open his door. That woman, all five feet of her, screamed at the top of her lungs, and after finishing, dragged them out the door to pay their respects.<p>

He found John first. The stone seemed expensive, which meant that someone had cared. Staring down at it, he didn't know what to say, all he could really think about was the last real conversation that he and John had.

* * *

><p>The cell they were keeping him in was stained with blood, probably John's. He could even see that his clothing was stained, again with blood. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days. Nik, on the other hand, was sporting his dress greens. It had been five years since they arrested him and put him in there. He was on deployment when Marv's mom told him the news, and he pushed to get leave so he could go talk to him, find out what the hell was going on. However, when he got there, they just kept staring at each other. "John, what the fuck is this?"<p>

His brother had picked his head up, and he could see it in his eyes, the guy was hiding something. "You know what it is kid."

"Bullshit," he looked to the man and again that cell. He wasn't meant to be here, that senator's brat did. "We both know you would never harm those kids, so why are you being charged?"

"Didn't you read the papers?" John had lain down on the mattress, but was at least looking at him.

"Hell yeah I did. You got the bastard, and did what every father in the city would've done. So, why are they saying you hurt the last one?" When John rolled over, he saw the papers fall from behind his pillow. The man turned frantic, trying to grab them all, like they were his family, his life line, not the man standing in front of him. Nik was reaching for one that had floated out from behind the bars, when John tore it from his hands. But not before he saw a name, Cordelia. "John, what is going on?"

"Forget it," he had the papers then and seemed intent on putting them in some kind of order. He settled on the final page, and stared at it. "Listen to what the papers say," he had placed them behind his pillow and went to the bars. "I'm a pervert. I raped those little girls, and I killed them, end of story." He refused to believe what he was hearing. John would never do that. He was many things, a drinker, and the guy had a stick so far up his ass it was sticking out the top of his head, but he wasn't a monster.

"John, stop fucking with me and let me help you. People know you're innocent, I've been talking to some people you worked with. You remember that gal from P&P, Claire," he saw John's eyes flash recognition. "She has been pouring over your case, and she's finding a lot of holes in the report, crap that doesn't add up. Your partner, she said he's even been talking weird, says he wants to recant his statement, we can prove you're being set up. We can get you out," he wasn't ready when John hit him, the punch put him flat on his ass.

"Enough, I'm telling you Nik, drop this, walk away and forget about me. I'm a pervert, end of story." He walked back to his bed, and gave him his back. He rose, and started to walk away; he would get his brother out, and find proof that Roark's sick puppy of a son was the one who needed to be here.

* * *

><p>Looking at the stone in front of him, he couldn't believe that in four years, the man had killed himself, after killing Roark's son. He wished he could have been there, and helped him kill the son of a bitch. He looked at the stone then, and saw that someone was kind enough to put some decent words over him. 'Police Officer', "Not quite right," he fished the driver out of his pocket, and again tested it against his thumb. He was impressed at how sharp the point was. It let him carve into the stone easily. Finished, he saluted his brother and wandered towards the back of the plots, the cheap seats.<p>

He remembered Marv's mom writing to him, saying that some nice women had bought a stone for him. She said that it wasn't anything fancy, but it was nice that he had gotten something. Eventually, he found it, and she was right, it wasn't much but it was something. The stone was plain, unpolished, but he could read the writing easily enough. It was just his name, Marv, and a few words. 'A Good Man', if Marv was still around, he would've laughed. Marv called himself many things over the years, a monster towards the end, but never, 'a good man'. But he was one, even if he didn't know it.

* * *

><p>It was just after his first tour, when he used two weeks of liberty to come home for a while. John was still around, and after bailing out Marv, they had all agreed to go to Kadies. Shehe was so excited he was home, that the drinks were free all night. He would've been lying if he said that he wasn't drunk, but he didn't care, they were all together and having fun. It was even amateur night, and some of the waitresses were feeling good enough to give the stage a shot.

The current girl on stage, Sherri, was enjoying herself, and they were more than happy to watch. She threw him a look, and he knew what it meant. "Girls like a man in uniform kid," he just looked at John and grinned. He knew that he didn't join for the tail; he did it to get out of town, and maybe go to school. But, looking at the blonde who was pouring him a shot and sliding him her phone number, he realized that it did have its perks.

It got real interesting though when the fight started. Marv was bored, and Nik could tell he was itching to move. The situation was perfect when some random guy bumped into Marv, spilling his beer. It was nice to get it out, they all were feeling pretty good, and the fight was nice too. It was nothing to worry about, no guns drawn or knives pulled, just a group of guys taking swings at each other. When it was over, only one chair and two bottles were broken, John and Marv were throwing shots back, and he had gotten Sherri in his lap, it was a good night. Then it got real interesting.

He saw her smiling at him from across the room. She made her way over, and even if he wasn't drunk, he'd have been staring. Hour glass figure with blonde hair and pale skin, she would be perfect for the night. He even liked her name, Goldie. He knew what she was though alright, any guy, no matter how drunk they were, could spot an Old Town girl from a mile away. When she made the offer, and he heard her price, he was polite, but declined; Sherri was coming back, and he knew he had a bed for the night already.

It was when Marv came back in, and Sherri was carrying him upstairs that he saw it. Marv had stopped what he was doing, got out of his chair, and opened the door for the hooker. He realized he was staring when the girl started laughing. "Your friend seems like he wants something," he let her drag him to her room, not really caring at that point.

"Nah, Marv's just a good guy. He wouldn't try anything, he was just being polite."

* * *

><p>Everything got kind of fuzzy then, but he thought that it turned out good. He started to laugh when he remembered that the girl was still working at Kadies. "I miss you Marv." He didn't care if anyone heard him. They were his family; he could always talk to them. "I saw John today; he seemed well off, all things considered. I did make a little improvement on his marker. I think he'd appreciate it." Again, he was monotone. "I came home to make things right. You guys died when you shouldn't have. I'll be fixing that. If I can't well," he looked up and down the rows. "I'm sure I can find a spot near you." He gave him a salute, and looking at the stone, he realized it was also missing something. Again, he moved quickly, and put his mark on the rock. Nodding, he moved to leave. He had had enough here, and just needed to get away from them, at least for a little while.<p>

* * *

><p>Sunday night was quiet, something that he really enjoyed. Nancy wasn't even up on stage, he was sitting at the bar with her, and she seemed upset. He understood why, this was the day John was put in the ground. She knew it, and so did he. They didn't say anything, just drank in silence. "I miss them too."<p>

He didn't expect her to really say anything to that, but she nodded all the same and grabbed her jacket. He followed her, and was somewhat relieved when she was smiling by the time they got to her car. "Why don't you go visit him, he'll probably appreciate it," she nodded then, and he watched her leave. When he got back to the bar, he saw Kadie waiting for him, holding a greasy bag and smiling. "What?"

"You're just like Marv, a big softie." Again, Kadie decided to close early, and he didn't have any problem with that. "Tomorrow Nik, tomorrow business will pick up." He just nodded his thanks, and took the twenty dollars he made and started to head home.

* * *

><p>He was halfway home when the sounds of Old Town were echoing around him, dull grunts and forced moans. He just laughed as he pulled his can from his jacket. "At least someone's making money tonight." He had just loaded his lip when he heard it, a slap and about three different snickers. He rounded the corner, and saw them. Instead of three like he figured, it was four different guys. What bothered him the most was that they were all wearing blues. <em>Cops, really? <em>

He started to move when he saw her drop from the roof. They didn't even realize they were dead until she was behind them; Miho was quick when she moved. Drawing her blade, he saw her cut two of them. In half. Part of him wanted to cheer, but a bigger part wanted to join her. She seemed like she was having fun, why couldn't he join her? The third tried to pull his pistol from his belt. She didn't even flinch when she took his hands. That was when the fourth cracked her in the back of the head with his gun. He didn't realize that he was moving until he had the guy's head in his hands. His vision was black when the cop started to scream.

* * *

><p>She was getting ready to visit Marv when her door burst open. She knew it was Gail; the woman was the only person who would be stupid enough to barge into her privacy. "Gail, come in. You want a sm-," she stopped when she saw the woman carrying Miho. "What happened?" She moved the small woman to her couch, and then whistled. Wendy watched as five of the girls dragged him into her room. She could see that his hands were covered in blood, and could also make out the goose egg on the back of his head.<p>

Ignoring him, she went to the couch, and was excited when the girl started to move. Slowly, those eyes opened, and Wendy knew that she'd be fine. "What happened?"

"One of the girls got jumped by some cops. She said they didn't want to settle up, so they were going to kill her." She watched as Gail lit one of her damn cigarettes, and took a drag. "Miho dropped three of them, when the last got a lucky hit in." At this, Miho gave her a nod. "That's when this thing," when Gail kicked him, Wendy was surprised that he didn't make a sound. "When he got involved, he tore the guy apart. See the white in his hands," sure enough, she could see it buried in his skin. "Those are chunks of bone. When he finished, he got up, and started to go towards Miho. I had just gotten there, and smashed the back of his skull in." She drew her weapon then, and placed it against his head. "Your call Wendy."

"Are you sure that he was going to hurt Miho?"

"The fucker literally just tore someone apart and was going towards her. What do you _think _he was going to do?"

"What do _you _think he was going to do?" She was slightly relieved when the woman lowered her pistol. "Tie him up, we need to talk."

* * *

><p>His head was throbbing and everything seemed bleary. When he cracked his neck, he heard the sound of heels followed by a slap to his face. Instantly, his vision cleared. <em>I'm screwed. <em>They were in his room, he could tell that much. They had him in a chair, and he could tell it looked like they used at least three rolls of _his _duct tape to keep him there. He could see Gail pacing the floor, Wendy was standing over him, her hand pulled back for another swing, and Miho, she was sitting in his chair, staring out the window.

When she hit him the second time, he could see the slight bump forming on the back of the girl's head. "You okay?" He understood that the third slap meant he should shut up.

"What happened?" He knew what she wanted to know this time, and he started to worry. He wasn't real sure what had even happened.

"I don't really know."

"No good enough." He held still when she punched him this time. He didn't laugh, didn't make comments about how she should keep her thumb outside her fist, he just let her get it out of her system. After what seemed like ten minutes, she stopped, and Nik could see that she was slightly winded. He spit the blood out of his mouth onto the floor, and watched as it poured through the hole into the room below, laughing when the tenant screamed yet again.

"I really don't know. All I remember is seeing her go down," he lifted his head and winced as he watched Miho pull a red hand away from her scalp.

"You killed a cop." He only shrugged, or as much as he could. "That is a problem; _you_ created a problem for _us_. What are we going to do when others start nosing around? Four cops who go to Old Town, in uniform; they are going to be missed. What are you going to do about that?"

"I'll deal with it, just get me a dumpster." He watched her eyes go wide when the tape started to tear. He stopped though when three guns were pointed at him.

"What happened to you? Gail said that you weren't even listening to her, that you just kept going towards Miho. She could've killed you, but she didn't. So what happened?"

"I don't know, I've only blacked out once, and that was right after John died. I woke up a couple of miles off the base, but no one got hurt. I _wouldn't_ have hurt her," He ignored the sound of hammers being pulled back and tore the rest of his way out of the tape. When they told him to stop, he ignored them, and started digging through his belongings on the floor. He felt a barrel against his head when he found them. "Here," he didn't look at them; he just passed them the bottle. When the gun left his temple, he dug his can out of his pocket and loaded his lip.

"What are these?"

"Be damned if I know, but the doctors told me to take 'em and the black outs would stop." He watched Wendy rattle the bottle, and frowned as she dumped out a handful.

"Why aren't you taking them?"

"Cause they cost about fifty bucks a pill. Even with my benefits, do you really think _I_ can afford them?" He watched those eyes stare at him, and he just ignored them. Rising, he went to his kitchen and pulled the shirt that was soaking out of the sink. It smelled cleaner and he rung it out before going over to the chair. She didn't wince when he pressed it to her head. "Keep this on; I don't need blood on my chair."

He figured he'd be used to it by now, but it was still a surprise to be pinned on his back. He was getting angry, but when the nut job, Gail, showed him the gun, he stilled. "Open," he knew what she wanted, and took the pills willingly. She grinned when he opened his mouth and showed her he finished them. "Unless you're making me an offer," he flipped her off his chest. "I got work to do." He was at the door, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He shook her off and walked out the door.

"I got four bodies to take care of."

* * *

><p>It was almost three in the morning when he found what he was looking for in the alley. The perfect dumpster. The first one was for recycling, it would have never worked. People had no problem crawling through paper and bottles to find something. The second was okay, but not good enough; as long as the garbage was bagged, people would have no problem digging. The last one though, which was conveniently the farthest from the sidewalks, it was something else.<p>

He could smell it before he was even close to it. Even in the cold, the stench of rotting food was overpowering. He grinned his way past his gag reflex when he saw the dead cat dumped on what might have been Chinese food. "Perfect," it was easy enough to throw them in. The hardest part was making sure that he got all the pieces. When he found the last hand, he tossed it in, and threw himself inside the container. That time he did throw up. Wiping his mouth, he started burying them underneath the trash.

After about an hour, and finding a few dead rats to add to the pile, he was satisfied. Walking back, he was pissed and grateful that it had started to rain. By the time he got back home, he could almost stand the smell of himself. He thanked whatever God there was when he had no company in the elevator.

He had finished showering when he noticed the smell. She had been there recently, not just from their visit, her scent seemed fresher, stronger. There was something else though, grease, the fresh kind, not what he had dragged home from the streets. He was back in the main room when he saw the bag. He opened it, and saw the burger and fries, and a note inside with it. _Enjoy, it wasn't from the dollar menu. _She didn't need to sign it, he knew who left it. "Girls got a sense of humor." He fell into the chair, ignoring the food completely. He started to get tired, and knew it was the pills; they always made him sleep, even when he didn't need the damn things. "Soon," he'd start to really work, soon.

* * *

><p>She didn't know why she kept coming. She figured that it was out of respect for the man. He had taken the blame, and in doing so, protected a lot of people. She knew that she shouldn't keep visiting him, that someone might start asking questions and that would mean her people could get hurt. But, she would be lying if she said that she didn't miss him. Marv was one of the few people who really made her feel like a woman. She wasn't ashamed to admit that she loved the ape. "What the hell?"<p>

At first she thought that someone had tried to damage the rock. If that was the case, she would kill them, personally. Then she saw what it was. Someone had taken time to add to the rock. 'A good man, _THE BEST._' She knew that Nik had done this. Miho said that he had gone to visit the graveyard today. She still didn't understand him, the way his mind worked. After staring at the stone, she opened her bag, and pulled a smoke and a beer, placing them on the ground. She hadn't known Marv very well, but he didn't strike her as the flowers type of guy.

She was leaving when she saw the girl from the bar. They nodded to each other, and she watched her leave. While she didn't like the girl, she had to respect her. She got the Johns hot and horny, and then they came to see her girls. They helped one another. She wandered the stones until she found the cop. It was fancier than Marv's, but it looked like his brother still left his mark. 'Police Officer, _A HERO_,' again, she was surprised he would do something like this. But then again, when the men in his family are known for being stupid, why should something like this surprise her? "He's gonna join you two here, isn't he?"

She knew she wasn't going to get an answer, but for once, she wished she would.

* * *

><p>Another chapter down, hope you all enjoyed. Take it Easy, -N.<p> 


	5. Impressive

Impressive

No excuse is good enough for the wait. Enjoy

* * *

><p>He could smell the smoke easily enough. He had been in that god forsaken jungle for almost six months, and it was one of the first things he noticed and learned. A charred smell that made him want to puke his guts up. He had learned real quick what made that kind of stink. It wasn't the smell of gun powder; he knew that it wasn't the stench of burning metal. It was something that always made his stomach twist. He had been separated from his squad for almost three days, and he didn't know why he was still alive. They were killing Americans right and left, why they hadn't managed to get him yet, he wasn't really sure. The stink was stronger now, and he could hear faint screams and people laughing. He only had ten rounds left in the rifle and his combat knife, the pistol he had brought had been empty since day one. He only prayed that it would be enough.<p>

There were three of them, at first he thought they were men, but instead they were just boys. Each one of them looked like they were only sixteen, which was probably right. The general promised these kids power in exchange for fighting for him, and apparently a loaded AK-47 was just that. Looking around, he figured out what that smell was. Forcing his growl down, he could see they had tied a woman, a girl really, to a pole and tied her over a fire. They laughed as her skin was crackling in the heat, and he moved behind them. They didn't even know they were in his shadow until it was too late. He shot two of them, and stabbed the third, the oldest, in the back before running to the girl.

He didn't know how she was still alive as he tore her loose and lowered her to the ground. "It's okay, you're gonna be okay." He knew that she couldn't understand a word he was saying. He knew she was just as afraid of him as she was of the others, but most of all, he knew that what he was telling her was a lie. Her skin was crackling under his touch, and she seemed like she just didn't have the energy to scream anymore. He rocked her against his chest until her whimpers stopped; he knew then that she was gone. It was then that he heard the groan of pain from the boy.

"You think this makes you a man?" He walked away from her to the kid, who was trying to drag himself towards a fallen rifle. He kicked the gun away and pulled the knife from the kid's shoulders, smiling as he screamed. Grabbing his head, he forced him to look at her, at what he did. "This make you feel powerful?" He didn't flinch when the kid spit in his face. Instead, he dragged the kid towards the fire, and tied him to the pole. Looking at the embers, he realized that it wasn't enough. Looking around the pathetic camp, he found what he wanted. The can felt like there was a gallon left, maybe.

When he came back, the kid started saying something to him, probably begging for his worthless life, he didn't know or care. All he knew was that it wasn't enough to stop him from pouring the diesel onto the kid's skin and the embers. "This is power." He laughed as the screamed echoed in the trees and he watched the flesh peel off him and fall into the flames. "Tell the devil to keep the fires burning for me." He walked away as the kid kept screaming. He would keep walking for five more days until he found his people, and what he did that night made him a sergeant.

* * *

><p>He was covered in sweat when he woke up. Nik knew why he was dreaming again, the damned pills caused it. That was the main reason why he didn't take them. At least when he blacked out, he didn't have to remember what had happened overseas. From the floor, he could see the bottle staring at him from the kitchen counter. He wanted to grab them and throw them out his window, but knew that he couldn't. If any of the girls find them on the curb, they'd be up there and shooting his ass before he knew what happened. He looked over at the windows, and saw it was still dark. He knew he needed sleep, but couldn't, not anymore.<p>

He dragged himself into the bathroom, and looked in disgust at what he saw. The bags under his eyes were back, and his baby blues were blood-shot. "You look like hell." The hot water helped soothe the anger at himself. Then his mind drifted back to last night. _Gotta check to make sure they're gone. _Shaking himself off, he grabbed his clothes off his floor and stormed out his door, slamming it. He heard the grumbles from his neighbors, but he didn't really care. Wendy was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He had created a real shit-storm for her, and he had to make sure it was cleaned up.

* * *

><p>The wind felt like a razor against his skin as he walked back to where he left them. He wished that it would just snow, or hail, whichever, not be just an arctic wind. Part of him wanted to turn around, go back to his room and sleep, but he couldn't. When the sleet started he growled, but kept walking, it was only another block and he could try to get out of the wind there. He was loading his lip when he got to the alley. Walking in, he saw the dumpster he had left them in. Lifting the cover, he was glad to see that the pile had remained untouched, in fact, the restaurant that owned the thing had added to it. "Good," he walked over to the recycler's dumpster, and pulling his jacket tight against his skin, slid down the wall to the ground. It was time to wait. He'd stay there until someone came to take the trash away, and if someone happened to go snooping in the container, well, he'd burn that bridge when he got there.<p>

It seemed to get colder as the sky lightened, but he didn't move from his spot. He had emptied his lip what felt like hours ago, and he was itching for another to take the edge off the cold. When he tried to move his arms and they only cracked, he knew he would be hurting later, but this was more important. He wasn't sure what time it was when he heard the garbage truck, but was glad to move when it pulled up to the alley. The driver didn't see him when he moved, and he stared as the container was lifted and poured into its hold. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until he heard the compactor start. When the container was dropped back to the ground and the truck left, he was smiling. "Problem solved."

* * *

><p>He could still feel his joints popping from the cold when he realized he wasn't alone. He turned, and relaxed when he saw that it was only the gun nut, Gail, standing outside the alley entrance. She was wrapped up in her jacket, and he saw her holding two steaming cups in her hands. "Hey," he only grunted as he dug the can out of his pocket. Loading his lip and throwing the empty away, he gave her a nod and started back to his apartment. "Wait," he turned and saw her following him. He stopped, not sure why, and was surprised when she passed him a cup.<p>

"Thanks," he hated that the coffee was burnt, but swallowed hard, grateful for the warmth. He raised an eyebrow when she passed him the second. "Why the kindness?" He decided to savor the second, and she just shrugged.

"You didn't have to watch them," she lifted her chin to the alley, and he turned to keep walking. It didn't surprise him when he heard the click of her heels behind him. "I checked your work after you left, no one would have looked in there." He turned to face her, and was surprised that he couldn't read the look in her eyes. He wasn't sure what was on her face, but for once, it wasn't the one that said, 'how can I kill you and you not see it coming.'

"Yeah I did," she raised an eyebrow, but he continued. "I screwed you guys over with them. And even after I fixed it, I couldn't let it go. I had to make sure." He started towards the apartment building, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Let me buy you a can, I need some smokes anyway." He was too tired and too cold to argue, so he fell into step behind her. The wind picked up again, and they just kept walking in silence. When they were rounding a corner and almost out of Old Town, he felt the wad drop from his mouth. He could see the banners clearly enough. Roark was running for re-election again, the posters made that clear enough. They said that he was trying to make Basin City a 'better place', _bullshit. _

"Easy killer," he didn't know he was growling until she said it. Taking a breath, he tried to relax when she continued. "He comes here every couple of years, looking for easy votes, says that if the girls support him, he'll keep the cops off our backs. Sad part is that he usually does." He could see men and women working around the stage and booths they had set up. He wondered if they knew what their boss was really like, the brother of a cannibal and the sire of a monster.

"How long are they open?"

"They close around three, and everyone is out of Old Town around four, why?"

"Just curious," when they got to a gas station, he watched her work, and again was surprised by these women. He remembered the other one, Dallas, how she teased and flirted to get a free pack, Gail though, she was different.

When she went up to the counter, he watched her give the kid a wink, and take his hand in hers. He half expected her to let him cop a feel, and when she turned to point at some random thing, the kid actually had the nerve to. He watched, half-expecting to see her blow him away, but she just pointed to the Sobranies and a can of Grizzly, the kid grabbed them, and she slid a piece of paper to him. She turned, and he noticed her popping her hips as she walked out, handing the can to him.

"So, why was he able to get away with a free feel?" He decided he liked her bark of a laugh, it suited her.

"Because he had something I wanted." He nodded, but still had to know…

"Whose number did you give him?"

"Basin City Police Department."

"Very nice," he reloaded his lip, and they kept walking in silence. Eventually, when he made it back to the apartment building, she seemed surprised when he opened the door for her. "Kadie told me that its Ladies night on Mondays."

"Yeah, and?" He rolled his eyes, and wasn't sure why he wanted to tell her this. He decided to chalk it up to the drugs in his system.

"The weather is gonna be shit tonight, no man will be hard enough to coming looking for a woman, come over. I could use the entertainment." He didn't flinch when she pulled a Glock from her jacket and pressed it into his groin.

"Entertainment?"

"Yeah, it getting slow over there and I could use a fight." She was laughing as she pulled the gun away and wandered to the elevator. He turned to the outside, and grinned when he saw a card table sitting on the curb. The legs were bent, but he was sure that it would still work.

* * *

><p>When he got upstairs, he opened it in the kitchen, and was proud that it was somehow level. Then he saw the china doll sitting on his counter. "Miho, can I help you?" She threw the bottle at him, and he knew what she was here for. "Here to make sure I take my meds like a good little boy?" He didn't get a nod, but knew he was right. Wendy probably sent her over to keep an eye on him.<p>

He shook out one of them, threw it into his mouth, and swallowed. "Happy?" She nodded, and seemed to slink over to him. When she stopped, he realized just how much larger he was than her. He suddenly wanted to do something that would probably end with his guts lying in a pile on the floor. _Nope, not worth it._ "Something you need?" Her hands were soft on his face, and he noticed that even though she seemed cold, her skin was warm. He was actually starting to enjoy her touch, until she forced his chin up and started to rub her hand up and down against his throat. He felt the pill slide out of his cheek and slip down his throat. _Clever girl. _"Satisfied?" That time she nodded, and he watched her actually grin, before slipping out his door.

He wasn't sure what was happening, but knew that the drugs were clouding his head. He moved to the mattress and laid down, not wanting to sleep, but his body and the drugs telling him he needed to. He would be fine after a few hours, then, maybe he would try and figure out a way to get out of taking his medicine.

* * *

><p>He was surprised at how packed Kadies was. He remembered how Kadie said that business would pick up tonight, but heshe didn't say how much. He could barely squeeze into his spot at the door, there was so many of them. Guys in his unit used to say that ladies night at Kadies was the best time to try and find a girl; he couldn't believe how wrong they were. He didn't know their names, but recognized each one as a face from Old Town. If any of those morons tried something now, they'd be dead before they knew what happened.

It was surprising to not see Nancy up on the stage tonight. Kadie said that it was normal for her to have off on Ladies Night, that the women didn't want to see a half-naked girl dancing all night. Instead, music just blared over the speakers, and drinks kept getting poured. He felt another hand on his ass, and froze, torn between a smartass comment and the desire to stay alive. When he chose to just keep his mouth shut, he was rewarded with the feel of another twenty being slid into his pocket.

Normally, if he was anywhere else, he would be enjoying the attention. But he kept remembering who these women were, and what they could do to him. He looked to the clock on the wall, and realizing that it was only a little after midnight, again scanned the room. Wendy and her crew were the first ones to show. He had been there for maybe five minutes when the strutted through the door. He smiled when they ordered another round, and Kadie threw their money back into their faces. He froze though when he/she pointed towards him.

He watched as Gail rose, and she walked straight towards him. At that time, he wished for anything. Some guy to come running at him with a broken bottle, a bullet to bury itself in his shoulder, he'd even take a Taser to his brain at this point. _Just not her. _Before he was ready, she was standing in front of him.

He could smell the vodka coming off her, but he just kept quiet and smiled. "Can I help you?" He wasn't ready for the hand. It was cold, and those fingers were strong. For a second, he thought she was going to tear it off. Instead, just a quick squeeze and a grin split her face.

"Impressive," he didn't need his ego stoked, but Nik enjoyed the complement all the same. After stuffing the greens into his pocket, he watched her go back to the table, and had to fight the urge to laugh when she tripped in her heels. He noticed the others laughing, but it didn't faze him. He watched them talk, and did grin when she held her hands up, like she was measuring a trophy fish. _Damn straight. _

* * *

><p>Around one thirty, he got his wish. He watched as two women wandered over to Wendy, words were exchanged, and next thing he knew, Gail was throwing a chair at the two newbies. He laughed as her nails tore his arm open when he pulled her away, but was agitated when the two that started the problem threw a mug at him. He had broken his nose so many times before that he knew it had happened again when the glass hit his face.<p>

He let them see his glare, and they froze. He knew what they were thinking, that he was going to kill them. But he wouldn't, like Marv and John, he didn't hurt girls. "That hurt. But I got nothing against you two," he remembered then that he was still holding Gail when she bit his wrist. Letting her go, he smiled as she dove at the other two. "But apparently, she does," he walked to the bar and grabbed the rag Kadie kept there. Loading his lip, he watched the fight while he wiped the blood from his face and arm. _Girls got a lot of rage; _he watched as she didn't pull their hair or scratch them. Instead, she hit like a man, and kicked even more like one. "Impressive."

As he watched Gail take the other two apart, his mind drifted back to the stage outside. Roark needed to suffer, but he wasn't ready to die yet. Nik and Marv were very much alike. They both liked to wait until the timing was perfect to make someone really hurt. Now though, Roark just needed to be sent a message, not to be hurt. Not yet.

* * *

><p>He was standing in front of the stage at the outer limits of Old Town. It was an eyesore, he decided, gaudy and tacky, covered with red, white, and blue streamers. He was torn between wanted to puke and laugh. Looking at the bottle of Everclear he was holding, he felt that this would be much more satisfying. Kadie didn't ask why he wanted the stuff. Heshe said that no one wanted to drink it, so he could have it, that way it would free up space on the bar shelf.

He pulled the bar rag out of his pocket, and shoved it into the bottle. He grabbed the pack of matches he brought, again compliments of Kadie, and watched as the rage started to burn. He threw the bottle, and only walked away when he watched the bottle smash and fire covered the stage. Part of him wanted to stay was watch it turn to ash, but he knew the cops would notice him standing there.

* * *

><p>He was outside the apartment building when he heard the fire trucks. Smiling, he climbed into the elevator, but didn't flinch when he caught her scent. "Miho, how are you doing?" He wasn't expecting the top of the elevator to open or for her to drop in beside him. She just stared at him with those damned eyes, and he felt like his skin was crawling.<p>

After what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened, and he walked to his room, not surprised that she followed. When he opened the door, he felt her drift in behind him, and he turned to face her. "Came to see my new edition?" She looked to the beaten table, and again glued her eyes to him. "What do you want?" She walked to the one remaining window, and pointed out. Sure enough, he could see the smoke coming up over the roofs of the building. "What of it?"

He wasn't going to lie; she didn't need to say anything for him to know she saw what he did. Frankly, he didn't care. She moved from the window, and he felt her stop behind him. He waited for her to do something, anything, and jumped when he felt her hand slip into his waistband. He didn't know why he was shaking. Maybe it was because of what he had seen her do, _yeah, that has to be it_. How would any guy feel if the woman grabbing him was the same one he saw cut a guy in half like he was a side of beef.

Eventually, she stopped, and he felt the hand leave his pants. Again, he jumped when her hand pushed its way into his already stuffed pocket. He fished the object out, and raised an eyebrow. He was surprised at the fifty he was holding, and she was already at the door. "Really?"

She just shrugged her shoulders and opened the door. "Impressive."

* * *

><p>Figured I'd go for a little more humor in this chapter. If you liked it, hated it, please let me know, remember, reviews mean more. Take it Easy, -N.<p> 


	6. Questions

Questions

I'm back, and I still think it goes without saying that I only own Nikolas, everything else is the property of Frank Miller.

* * *

><p>It was hot. Hotter than hell and so humid that it seemed like he was changing his socks every other hour. They were marching, again. Their orders were pretty clear, cause trouble wherever you can and don't get caught. Every guy knew the deal, screw up and the government forgets that they sent you there. You went rogue, end of story. Still though, they got mail and supplies like anyone else.<p>

He didn't even know why he had agreed, Auntie was getting worse and Marv had gone off the radar, again. _They needed the money_, that's what he kept telling himself. These jobs paid the best, and it got Marv his damned pills and kept his saint of a mom someplace safe. Her eyes were getting worse, and at the very least, he would make sure that she was in an upscale home back home.

They were getting close to where one of the higher ups liked to frequent. File said, 'he likes them young'. It was enough to put his guts in a not. Taking out the sentries outside had been no problem; their blood was staining the ground before they even knew they were dead. Getting inside, he saw the manager. She must've worked her way up from being one of the girls. She knew what they were there for. Hell, she'll probably be going through the guy's pockets after they leave. She just pointed to the only hook missing a key and walked out the door. "Thirteen," he checked to make sure the 1911 was loaded. Perfect.

He took the lead, always the lead, had to do something to show he earned the bars on his arm. He could hear a man laughing, correction, cackling when he got to the asshole's room. Bastard was tying his pants back up when he slid the door back open. It wasn't much of a fight really, an execution more than anything. One shot to the back of his skull, and then two to his chest. Take no chances. He scanned the room and saw her. She was twelve, maybe.

She was terrified, and in pain, he could see the blood on the sheets, and he wished that he would have made the bastard suffer more. Digging through his pockets, his eyes pop when he pulled a gold coin from his pockets. He didn't know what kind it was, but she seemed to, at least, that's what her eyes said. "You want this?" She met his gaze with a frantic nod. He through it, and didn't miss the whimper of pain as she dove for it. He turned away when he saw the bruises on her thighs when she dressed. "Go home." Again, a nod and she limped from the room.

Digging into his pockets, he found the dented can and unsurprisingly, it was bone dry. Ignoring the feel of what could now be called coffee grinds in his mouth, he reached down and pulled the bastards tags off his body and turned, but not before spitting onto his corpse.

They had to start moving before his boss starts to wonder why he isn't coming back. Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, he wandering back downstairs and signaled them to move out, the money was worth it, but it was still too damned hot.

* * *

><p>He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and groaned at the stiffness in his back. The room was even colder, but that was no surprise since they were in October. He needed to get a new window, and finally had enough money to pay for it. Clearing Kadies and tolerating ladies night was filling his pockets faster than the government ever did. He wandered over to his bathroom, and actually had cause to smile when he entered. Sure, he had to look at the damned pink curtain, but he had his white towel, his can of shaving cream, and he knew his soap was behind that curtain.<p>

The water helped to get the dream to leave him. He hated those pills, "Take them and the dreams will stop son, you won't have to worry about blacking out again. Bullshit." Stepping out, he made his way to the sink and saw that his eyes were getting worse. They looked tired, beaten. He noticed his hair was growing again, double zero on the sides and three on top. No it was more like three and five up top. That needed to change; his stubble didn't do much for his assessment either. His shave helped though, made him seem more human. When he heard his door squeak open, he didn't panic. His nurse was here to make sure he took his pills like a good little boy. "In here china doll," the click of her heels was the only signal that she gave before the door opened.

He didn't really expect her to actually come in, and the worst part was when he felt his face heat up. Damn it, he was Nikolas Fucking Hartigan! He had stared death down so many times that they were on a first name basis. He had been hit on by every working girl in Old Town, and he was blushing like some kid the first time in the back seat of his parent's station wagon. "See something you like?" He was proud when his voice came out even.

It didn't help his blush though when her eyes went from his face, to below his face and then back up again to his eyes. He knew that his body wasn't exactly pretty, spending time getting shot at isn't the kindest to one's complexion. The one he wished she didn't see though was his side. Guy had come at him with a linoleum knife, a fucking linoleum knife. He didn't even think it was that bad until the medic told him that it had nicked his kidney. "Well?"

A shrug. All he got was a shrug and then she stepped back to close the door. He was surprised by how much it actually hurt. Turning back to the mirror, he took three quick swipes and was finished. He was digging through the hamper he had found on the curb, and selecting what he thought was the cleanest, pulled them on. He noticed the rusted hue on his wife beater and realized it was her make shift bandage from a month ago. She had taken it with her when she left, but a few days later, he found it clean and folded on his chair.

She was in his chair when he came out, the yellow bottle in her hand. Shaking out two, she stood up, and with a raised eye brow, he understood the command. Open your mouth and behave. He swallowed, but she still ran her hand against his throat. When she turned to leave he could help but say something about before. "Why did I get a shrug, when a while ago you called me 'impressive'?" Her answer was a one fingered salute and a closed door.

* * *

><p>It wasn't much of a surprise when he saw Roark's campaign signs outside the hardware store. When the last one had burned down, they called it political sabotage that, a competitor had burned down the stand to try and beat Roark. That suited him just fine, if they wanted to go after someone else fine; it just meant that he was able to keep off the radar. He wasn't ready though when the bastard himself decided to make an appearance.<p>

"People of Basin City, I stand before you as a humble man," liar. "I am grateful that the people of this city each time they decide that they want me to lead their city," bullshit. He wasn't surprised that the sheep of this city were starting to gather. "I am here asking for your support again, I promise that I will do what it takes to keep the monsters off of our streets," his blood started to boil when huge banners of Marv and John appeared behind him, each blaring "Rapists" and "Killers". "I swear to you now, that I will continue to keep these evils out of our city. I will make it my personal mission to make sure that no one suffers the loss that I have." He was impressed that the man was actually able to squeeze out a few tears, much to the enjoyment of the masses.

"Disgusting," he forgot the mirrors and walked away to the sounds of people cheering for the monster on stage. He needed to get away, before he did something stupid. Sure, he was willing to die, he had thought about it for a long time, and if he died killing the bastard that ruined his family, he was fine with that, but now wasn't the time. He would be dead before he could even get a hand on him.

"Something bothering you?" He had rounded the corner, and Gail was standing there, almost like she was waiting for him. She was sporting what he thought of as her 'civies', black leather jacket, black jeans, a black tee, and unsurprisingly, modest black heels. Granted, the only thing modest about them was that they were less than two inches. He gave a nod, and she fell into step beside him. He reached into his pocket, and loaded his lip.

"Roark was there today," he turned and saw that she was struggling with her lighter against the wind. With a huff, he pulled her close and had the lighter burning in his hand when he felt the point against his groin. Looking down, he was unsurprised to see the four-inch switch blade pressing into his jeans.

"Sorry," she closed the blade and slid it into her coat pocket. "Force of habit," she leaned into the flame, and he was surprised that she actually appeared embarrassed by what had happened.

"Forget it," they turned and it seemed like they were back at their building. He stopped and did his customary sweep of the curb before heading to the door. He had a TV now, but wouldn't mind finding a clock of some kind there. Only finding trash, he turned and found her waiting on him. When he got to her, she continued to wait, until he took the hint and opened the door for her.

The elevator ride up was quiet, but she seemed to know what he was thinking. "I know you want him to die, but are you sure that that's the best idea?"

"He killed my family, and _his_ family killed yours. Why should he deserve to live?" The door opened at his floor, and when he started to leave, he heard her voice yell from behind him.

"Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

* * *

><p>He found himself staring out his window from the chair, when his door opened again. He knew she was behind him and started to tap his should. "Yeah Miho?" Turning, he saw her point to the window, and back to him. He got the message though; it was time to go to work. She followed him til he was out of the building and on his way to Kadies. When he turned back, she was already gone. He still wasn't sure what to make of her.<p>

Wendy, she was easy, she was the boss, the queen of Old Town. Wendy was the one who looked after all the girls, made sure they had a place to stay, and behaved themselves. In some ways, she was almost a mother figure. Gail though, she was the older sister. She made sure that the girls were safe, and kept themselves safe. Miho though, he just couldn't figure her out. A part of him wanted to call her an enforcer; after all, he had seen first-hand of how deadly she was. And yet, she was also the one who was making sure he took his pills and left for work on time. He just couldn't figure her out.

* * *

><p>Kadies was busy for a Wednesday. The old transvestite was constantly running back and forth with beers and shots. The thing that bothered him though was sitting in the corner nearest the stage. He recognized the guy from this morning. He had been at the campaign getting signatures and donations, but now he was panting over Nancy. He became a real bother though when he decided to grab the blonde and pull her into his lap. "Hands," the man's arm was between his hands. "Off," he twisted and felt the bones snap. "Nancy," the man was crying when he heard the gun go off.<p>

Turning, he saw Roark standing at the entrance, holding a smoking revolver by his side. "What's the problem gentlemen?" The words were kind, but his eyes weren't. He could see that they were angry, whether it was at him or the man on the floor, he wasn't sure. A flash of movement caught his eye, and he saw Kadie pulling Marv and John's pictures off the wall.

"Senator, I was doing nothing!" Nikolas turned and saw the man cradling the limb in his good hand. "This animal just attacked me!" He chose to ignore the animal comment, and just looked at the man he hated more than anything with what he hoped was an innocent face.

"He violated one of the golden rules of Kadies," he pointed towards the bar, and everyone looked up at rule number three. "You can look, but no one touches Nancy. This," he lifted the man by the scruff of his neck and shoved him towards the door. "Man decided he was too good for the rules. But no one is too good for the rules, are they Senator?"

Those eyes seemed to question him, but the gazed hardened on the broken man in front of him. "Is this true James?" The only answer he received was a stuttering no. "I apologize Mr.?"

He fought against the rage inside and again reminded himself that he was unarmed while the bastard still held a gun. "Nikolas, sir."

"Nikolas, I apologize for my employee's behavior." He pulled his wallet out, and Nikolas saw he pull a full nights wages out. "Please, give this to the young lady, with my assurances that James will be properly reprimanded for what happened here tonight." It took all his will power to not crush the man's hand in his own when he reached for the money.

"Thank you sir," he folded the bills and ignored the pleas as the man was led out the door. He had passed the bills to Nancy when he heard the faint pop of a gun from outside. Nancy didn't disappoint him when she pulled a lighter from off the bar and held the bills over the flame. She had style, but it was different from his. He would have spit on them before shoving the cash back into the bastard's pocket.

* * *

><p>He left the bar, and he couldn't help but keep thinking about Roark, the man did give Nancy some cash. Granted, she didn't want it, but still it was a gift, and when someone gives you a gift, you should give them something in return, at the very least a thank you card. It didn't take him long to figure out just what to give the man. It would be unique, he knew that much, and it would still send the message clearly enough. "I'm coming for you Roark." It would take most of the night, and a little bit of luck, but he was sure that he could pull it off.<p>

* * *

><p>When he finally crawled through his door, the sun was already up. No one was moving around though, so he was grateful. At the moment, he just wanted to take a shower, wash off the grime, and crash into oblivion on his mattress.<p>

The shower was over quicker than he wanted it to, but it was burning his skin it was so hot. He didn't even bother to pull anything on when he fell onto the floor. Just as he was on the edge of consciousness did he realize she was there. He just didn't care that she was sitting in his chair watching him. He just raised a hand in a feeble wave and let it drop back to the padding. He was asleep before she moved and stared down at him.

* * *

><p>Miho was many things, a killer, a spy, a lover, but most of all, she was a watcher. She had been following this man ever since he had stepped into Old Town, and he still seemed to hold her attention. She didn't know why that was, but something about the man intrigued her. She had seen how he killed men who seemed to hurt people, and how he didn't accept charity unless it was forced onto him, but yet he held the most stubborn pride and arrogance she had ever seen.<p>

He seemed to enjoy teasing her with his words, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy doing it right back at him. He was a riddle that a part of her wanted to figure out. Right now though, she wanted to know where he had been all night. She had followed him to the limits of Old Town, and when he finally came back, he was covered in powdered stone and exhausted. She was even surprised now, as she sat down beside him while he slept, maybe his dreams wouldn't be so bad tonight?

* * *

><p>James didn't come into work that morning, and it bothered Bobbi. They were the only ones who opened the stand, and he wasn't there to help. She knew where he was though, probably back at home nursing a hangover. But, it did surprise her when she saw a box on the stage addressed to the Senator. It was crudely wrapped, and about two feet long by a foot wide. She figured it was probably a few baked goods, the wives of his supporters were always sending something over. She normally didn't open packages that didn't belong to her, but she knew that this one time, it would be alright.<p>

When she opened it and saw two faces, one heavily mangled and the other with a jaundiced hue. She could tell the colored one was the late senator's son, but the other, the cardinal ring jammed into the eye socket identified it as the man's brother. A part of her knew that this was why she shouldn't open packages addressed to other people. Everyone else in the area figured that out from her scream.

* * *

><p>Like I said, I'm back. I will continue to update, but the chapters may be slow coming. Still I hope everyone enjoyed, feel free to leave a review.<p>

Take it Easy,

-N


End file.
